


Petals Soft and Calm

by goldfwish



Series: Drarryland 2019 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ficlet, Flowers, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfwish/pseuds/goldfwish
Summary: Yellow petals. Thin green stems. They look like they would snap at the slightest pressure of Harry’s fingertips. A bundle of them, sitting on his desk. It’s nothing extravagant. And yet it makes him blush anyway.





	Petals Soft and Calm

**Author's Note:**

> Flowers keep appearing on Harry's desk every morning and he won't tell anyone why. Either 1) He doesn't know why -OR- 2) He knows and refuses to admit it. Minimum: 208 - Maximum 458.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Yellow petals. Thin green stems. They look like they would snap at the slightest pressure of Harry’s fingertips. A bundle of them, sitting on his desk. It’s nothing extravagant. And yet it makes him blush anyway.

Someone’s whistling at him from the back of the classroom. Who’s the lucky girl, they ask. Hermione puts curious eyes on him. Ron pats him on the back. Harry sits. 

Draco walks in then. When he sees the flowers on Harry’s desk, he sneers. He eyes the bundle, hand curling around the strap of his bag.

Harry looks at him, holds eye contact. Intense. Jealous, Malfoy? 

A quirk of the lips. Ironic. Whatever, Potter.

—

Red this time. Poppies. Utensils clink against plates, warm food and warmer conversation drifting around the hall. Harry’s reaching for the pumpkin juice, and then there’s a pop. And there they are.

The people around him gasp and whisper, inquiries piercing his ears. He ignores them.

Luna reaches over, tucks one behind her ear. Harry glances to the left, from one blond head to another. Grey eyes flick away. How curious. 

—

He’s in the library. Ginny’s quill scratches at parchment. The smell of cedar and leather-bound books is a soothing balm to Harry’s headache. Revisions. Sigh. 

He lays his cheek to the open book in front of him. Closes his eyes. Just for a moment. Opens them. 

Purple. 

He lifts his head, tension fading away at the sight of the flowers. Ginny’s giving him a questioning look. He shrugs. Clutches the bundle, runs his fingers over the petals. Soft.

As he leaves the library, he sees Draco sitting at a table by the window. Dust motes dance in the silvery strands of his hair. He looks up, expression soft. Calm. A mutual breath, held. Harry walks away.

—

A walk. Footsteps softened by grass, trees casting shadows over the lake. Cotton-white clouds are reflected in the water. A cool breeze, pleasant. A field of wildflowers, yellow, red, and purple. And among them, pale skin. 

Draco.

Harry approaches him. Grey eyes raise to meet green. A silent question, a silent answer. Harry sits. Touches the flowers. Soft.

He plucks one from the grass, extends it out to Draco. An offering. He takes it. The lake swishes gently, and a stray petal drops on the surface. Ripples. They look at one another, and smile.


End file.
